The Return
by Sentimental Star
Summary: **COMPLETE** As one of the Jedi’s number at last returns to the Force after years of pain and bitter struggle, unaware of what he will find there, others wait with barely restrained impatience to welcome him home...--NO Slash--


**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to George Lucas.

**TITLE:** The Return

**AUTHOR:** Sentimental Star

**SUMMARY:** As one of the Jedi's number at last returns to the Force after years of pain and bitter struggle, unaware of what he will find there, others wait with barely restrained impatience to welcome him home…

**SERIES:** None

**SPOILERS: **None that I'm aware of.

**CATEGORY:** Angst, H/C, NON-SLASH

**TIME PERIOD:** Post-ANH

**RATING:** K

**FEEDBACK:** Yes, please! R&R at (penname: Sentimental Star) or Jedi Council Forums (penname: Advocate).

**ARCHIVES:** Jedi Council Forums, JAFD, and all others please contact me at Hey, everyone! This is a short but sweet piece of a missing moment that I've always wanted to write about in Star Wars fan fiction, so please enjoy!

**/Thoughts/**

It would happen soon, he knew. It had already begun.

He could not say he did not feel impatient, or that he had not been anticipating it for a long time. He knew it was a natural part of life, the natural flow of things. Yet, all the same, part of him rebelled at the very thought.

There were others watching with him. He could sense them around him. Many knew one of the last of their number was finally returning home. Back, at long last, to the Force after years of bitter struggle.

The younger ones could barely contain themselves. The boys paced restlessly and the girls clutched each others' hands in their excitement.

Then the one girl, a Mon Calamarian, detached herself from her friends, with assurances that she would be right back. She made her way over to him where he leaned, tense and hooded, in the shadow of the large columns gracing the top of the entry steps.

He bowed slightly to her in friendly acknowledgement. "Bant."

The Mon Calamarian, Bant Eerin, grinned and bowed in return. "Master Jinn."

"Is there something I can help you with, young one?" he asked quietly.

She kept smiling. "Actually, yes. The others and I have been talking." He nodded for her to go on. She took a deep breath. "And we decided that you should be the first one to greet him."

The tall Jedi Master started slightly. "Young one, I hardly think I deserve--"

But Bant gently interrupted him. "He has wanted to see you for _years_, Master Jinn. And he has missed you for forever and a day."

Qui-Gon Jinn, master diplomat and master swordsman, ducked his head further into his hood as his face abruptly tightened in emotion. "I would like that," he said very, very softly.

Bant's smile saddened and she laid a sympathetic webbed hand on his arm a moment before making her way back to her friends. Siri Tachi glanced at her. "Well?" questioned quietly.

She smiled at the other girl. "He'll do it."

A small cheer went up among the little group of friends and Siri gave a soft snort, crossing her arms over her chest and lightly rolling her eyes. "_Finally_, thank the Force," she murmured. "They _both_ deserve some reprieve after what they've been through."

Bant laughed and looped her arm through the other girl's as the small entourage of young adults began to move further off.

Just as they did so, the currents of the Force shifted the tiniest amount—but enough so that all Jedi present abruptly straightened.

The level of excitement heightened several notches and the whispers spread like wildfire throughout the congregated Jedi: "He's here!"

Bant squealed softly and tightly latched onto Siri, who gripped her back, trembling. Garen Muln and Reeft stood shoulder to shoulder with the two girls, holding their breaths.

All eyes were on Qui-Gon who had thrown his hood back and left the shelter of the column to stand at the top of the steps of the Grand Entrance Promenade and gazed down fixedly at a point right in the center of it. He was very still.

Within moments, that particular spot began to shimmer, and abruptly, a familiar form appeared, gazing down at his now much younger body in shock.

The figure practically went catatonic when he happened to glance up and see a much beloved building, with much beloved people, waiting for him.

And Qui-Gon choked when that figure's sea-change, blue-green eyes at last focused on him, a bond long strained by distance and dimensions searing with new life in his mind.

As if a spell had been broken, the figure gave a hoarse cry and collapsed on the ground. Qui-Gon himself was already moving as he practically vaulted down the steps to greet this much missed and longed for sight.

Crashing to his knees, Obi-Wan Kenobi cried out as if in pain. Oh, Force. Oh, Force, Force, Force! Was this really happening? Was he truly here? Oh, Force…

But the tall, solidly built man at the top of the steps was moving. Down the steps he dashed, robes whirling and long hair flying.

This feeling…

The bond…

Home…

_Qui-Gon_.

A split second later, he found himself roughly jerked off his feet and into a crushing embrace. A face was buried in his hair.

Familiar scents flooded his senses: tea, wind, and earth.

By the time the scents registered, Obi-Wan had tears streaming down his cheeks and was aware of Qui-Gon gasping, "Stars. _Padawan_."

He was set back down on the ground—upright—but Qui-Gon, clearly, was not yet finished with his greeting. No sooner had the older man let him go than a large, _warm_ hand was placed against his left cheek. Qui-Gon, for a few _long_ minutes, alternated between stroking his hair and covering his face with kisses. "Padawan," he murmured, "Padawan." He pulled back, smiled, and then did it again.

Obi-Wan kept crying, not able or wanting to stop. His fingers dug into the fabric of the front of his Master's tunic and he let the older man have his time. He, certainly, was not about to object.

It did not take long before the young man realized he was not the only one crying. His Master had tears streaming down his cheeks, too.

And, indeed, those Obi-Wan had been closest to—aside from Qui-Gon—were no less affected.

Bant had her face buried in Garen's shoulder, still clutching Siri's arm, and was unashamedly weeping into the fabric of the boy's tunic. Garen himself was grinning so widely that it felt as though his face might burst. A single tear wound its way down his cheek.

Siri had shoved a fist into her mouth and silent tears tracked down her cheeks while Reeft, at her side, had his arms crossed over his chest and wore a grin that matched Garen's perfectly, eyes suspiciously bright.

Then Garen gently jostled Bant. "Bant, you guys, look!" and he nodded to where Master Jinn had at last helped a shaky Obi-Wan to his feet and gently led him to the preserved Jedi Temple.

His friends looked…and soon all four of them were hooting and hollering, waving and cheering. But none of the other Jedi there forced them to stop.

From where he walked with his Master, the man's arm wrapped snugly around his shoulders, Obi-Wan Kenobi gave his first genuine grin in many years, and waved back.

**The End!**


End file.
